


Adaptation

by Squintern



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, communication is key, idk how to tag, is this right, mostly comfort don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squintern/pseuds/Squintern
Summary: I'm worried you still resent me...---Wherein Klaus brings Dave to 2019 and the apocalypse is prevented, but it's not like Klaus is magically over all his problems.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 14
Kudos: 129





	Adaptation

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this one ages ago, but the ending was very different (it was, like, sad). Finally sat down and pretty much banged the whole thing out this weekend tho, so I'm pretty psyched about that. Pretty much ignoring season 2 tho, because Klaus saying Dave died in 1968 when Klaus himself landed in 1968 legit doesn't make sense. Also, because this was started before season 2, Dave didn't live in Dallas. That's my headcanon and I'm sticking to it! And, as only a semi-good Protestant, let me just apologize if I've made any incorrect statements about Judaism. I don't really spend as much time as I probably should on the Google.

Dave is adaptable. It was the first thing Klaus noticed about him in Vietnam. He can roll with the punches better than anyone Klaus has ever met. He’s quick on his feet, possesses an almost preternatural ability to sense a ground shaking change coming and prepare for it. If Klaus didn’t know any better, he’d think Dave had a super power. But all he really is, is adaptable.

He takes to the 21st century with all the determination he had when setting out into battle. He spends hours studying every new thing he comes in contact with, learning what it does, why it’s needed, and how to use it. He masters a cell phone within his first month, holed up in bed with nothing to do but fiddle with this mystifying new device and let Grace change his bandages twice a day. Klaus hovers uncertainly, but Dave never asks for his help. He’s frustrated, clearly, but dead set on learning on his own. Klaus can understand that.

When he’s allowed out finally, Klaus brings him to the library. He’s lost a half century of information and he refuses to take Klaus’s cliff-notes. They spend hours there, first with Klaus teaching him to look up books in the digital card catalog, then Dave insisting he can do it himself and only sending Klaus after the books when he’s worn himself out and can’t stand any longer. He reads with more voracity than Klaus has had about anything in his life, desperately absorbing as much information as he can before he’s cross-eyed and nearly passed out. They take home as many books as the library allows and when Dave’s eyes can’t focus, Klaus reads to him.

Two months pass before Dave asks how to search for obituaries. Klaus knew it would be coming, but he still hovers as Dave sets to work on a laptop Diego picked up for them. Dave’s got a notebook and pen beside him and slowly he crosses off names, adds dates, puts down locations. Dave doesn’t say much as he works, only mentioning if one of the boys they served with has made it this far. But Klaus looks over the list when Dave sleeps in the afternoon and he finds out that Dave had three sisters, all passed.

It’s a long recovery, long enough that by the time the stitches come out of both entry and exit wounds Dave has nearly caught up to the 2000’s and is using modern technology with relative ease. The first thing he asks is whether they can make a trip to Tennessee. Klaus has had weeks to worry about Dave resenting him for bringing him to an entirely new century and the request lodges a pit of certainty in his gut. Still, he books them a flight in two weeks time and finds them a hotel close to Dave’s hometown.

Dave has had time to get used to the sights and sounds of 2019, but Klaus can understand how it’s different when it’s his hometown. To Dave, he’s only been gone a couple years. But there’s a half century gap between that and when he returns to. The general store where he and his sisters bought ice cream bars -- he points as they walk down Main Street -- is now a chain restaurant. The old movie house he and his buddies snuck into on the weekends is boarded up and it looks like nothing’s been there for decades. They linger outside of the synagogue Dave’s family attended; Dave smokes three cigarettes in a row, staring up at the building because even if the facade hasn’t changed he knows it’s going to be different if he sets foot inside.

It takes a couple days before Dave works up the courage to walk through his old neighborhood. It’s mostly the same, he admits, though it seems to be only a small comfort. They can’t exactly loiter here like they did around town, but Dave slows as they approach his childhood home. Klaus wants to reach out and take his hand, offer some sort of comfort, but Dave's still adjusting and Klaus hates to push him. So Klaus stands silently off to the side, watches the emotions pass over his face as he takes in the manicured lawn, the powder blue shutters, and the colorful porch swing. It’s another few minutes before Dave speaks once they pass.

“It was yellow when I lived there,” he says. And Klaus reaches out unconsciously and grasps his hand. Dave automatically shakes him off, but sends him a brief apologetic smile and Klaus tries not to take it personally. “We had a sunshine yellow house with butter yellow shutters. The front door was white. We had a fence, too, so our dog could run around the yard.” Klaus doesn’t say anything and Dave doesn’t offer anything else.

Dave leads them around another couple blocks, smiling at the ladies who wave from where they’re gardening or gossiping on their porches. He tells Klaus quietly about the people he knew, if their houses have changed. By late afternoon, Klaus has seen the homes of people Dave only mentioned a few times in Vietnam. It’s heartbreaking to watch him take it all in, but still Klaus can’t help but be grateful that Dave brought him along. Can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe Dave doesn’t completely hate him for changing his entire life without asking first.

On their last day, they finally visit the graveyard. Just like everything else, Klaus knew it was coming. Dave says he can stay in the hotel, that he doesn’t have to come along, but Klaus insists. He’s going to be there for Dave, and he’ll have to learn to start dealing with the ghosts if he’s going to stay sober.

They go out in the morning, Dave armed with his list and Klaus nervously puffing through a fresh pack of cigarettes. He’s been practicing pushing the ghosts away. He thinks of it like blinders, if he narrows his view enough he can block out the excess noise. But ghosts are stronger when they’re near a tether to their life and graveyards are always packed. Besides, it’s already hard enough to focus over his internal voice whispering how Dave will be angry with him for not letting him be there to see his family get put in the ground.

Dave is quiet when they get to the cemetery. It’s a beautiful day, cloudless sky and uncharacteristically dry for the season. A breeze rustles the scattered trees and birds are singing from somewhere. If it weren’t for the spirits clamoring to reach him, Klaus might call it idyllic. There’s no one else around, but this time it’s Klaus who flinches when Dave’s hand brushes his own. Dave stops, hesitant all over again, but Klaus gathers himself and grabs his hand. He offers what he thinks might be a reassuring smile around his cigarette.

“You can stay out here. Maybe go to that cafe we passed,” Dave offers one more time. Klaus resolutely shakes his head.

“This might be the only chance I have to meet your family and get all the juicy details on what you were like as a kid,” he jokes. Dave gives him a tight lipped smile, but he squeezes Klaus’s hand as they head in.

It is loud. Loud and much, much too like the mausoleum. Klaus knows he’s holding Dave’s hand too tightly, he can feel where the bones are shifting into each other. He focuses, breathes, dredges up every technique he’d practiced with Diego and Five and Allison all cheering him on from the sidelines. Still, it’s not quite enough. He’s not strong enough yet to keep them at bay for long.

He knows, intellectually, that Dave isn't ignoring him. He knows today is not about him at all, that Dave is more than allowed to be selfish, to care about this particular mission more than Klaus right now. But it doesn’t stop that stab of hurt when Dave doesn’t even glance up. He just squeezes Klaus’s hand again, but keeps looking, searching for the names he knows. Klaus sucks desperately on his cigarette and considers running. He almost does, almost loosens his grip, when Dave stops.

It’s only two stones, for his mother and father. Klaus knows he shouldn’t have snooped, but he saw that Dave’s three sisters scattered across the country. Dave lets go of Klaus’s hand and squats down in front of the graves to read them. Klaus squeezes his eyes shut against the ghostly onslaught and opens them again after a moment. Dave’s sitting, tracing the numbers on his mother’s stone.

“We die early in this family,” he mutters. His mother, 73, would’ve just seen Dave’s 45th birthday. If he’d lived. His father died three years after her at 81. Klaus remembers the list, even if it wasn’t sitting right at Dave’s side. His sister Rebecca was in her 60’s, Magdalene was in her early 80’s, Isobel was only 34. It’s strangely quiet, and Klaus realizes he didn’t even notice the ghosts being pushed away. He looks around suddenly, searching for any facial features he might recognize.

“Don’t bother,” Dave says. He thumbs at the corner of an eye, looking away. “Jews don’t really believe in ghosts. Can’t imagine they’d stick around as one.” Klaus slowly folds himself down next Dave, doesn’t mention just how many are hanging around right now.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. Dave shakes his head a little and drops his face into one hand, shielding himself from Klaus. Klaus looks away, gives him a moment. He notices, then, a small stone set not too far away. It’s easy to miss, set directly on the ground and grown over with moss. With a sinking feeling, Klaus notes the small flag at its left hand corner. He shifts to read it.

_ David J Katz _ , it says,  _ 1940-1969 _ .

There’s nothing else on it, and the flowers that’ve been set in small planters next to his parents’s stones aren’t anywhere near this marker. The least they could do, Klaus imagines. He looks over at Dave again. His face is still hidden and Klaus shifts back closer to him before he notices. A fierce protectiveness in Klaus wants to keep Dave from seeing his own grave marker.

“We mourn for a full year,” Dave says thickly. He sniffs hard and Klaus leans into him. His shoulders shake.

“For each of them?” Klaus asks. He’s never really done the whole religion thing himself, but he genuinely wants to know. He knows it’s important to Dave.

“Seems a bit much, doesn’t it?” Dave asks hoarsely. He chokes on a laugh and finally looks up. “Two straight years of mourning, then for my sisters, too.” He scrapes an arm across his eyes aggressively.

“If that’s what it takes,” Klaus says. Dave shakes his head a little and stands suddenly. Klaus has to catch himself on his hands. He loses his cigarette in the grass.

“Let’s get out of here,” Dave says. He wipes his eyes again then offers a hand to Klaus. Klaus grabs Dave’s list and lets himself be pulled to his feet.

“Are you sure you don’t want to--” he starts.

“Lets go,” Dave insists. His eyes have gone cold. Klaus slowly puts the list into his own pocket. Dave lets go of Klaus’s hand and starts walking back to the entrance. He doesn’t look back.

They’re both silent as they ride the bus back into Downtown. Dave looks out the window, not letting Klaus see his face. Klaus fidgets nervously, all hope of Dave not resenting him completely dashed. His heart twists up in his chest. When Dave gets off the bus, he just looks around, still not speaking. After a moment he sets off, walking quickly, purposefully. Klaus sees where he’s heading after a moment and he feels sick.

The bar Dave chooses is empty inside. It’s still early and they probably only just opened. It’s never been Dave’s style to drink before at least 2 pm, but Klaus guesses everyone deserves an exception. He thinks about ditching, going back to the hotel and waiting for Dave there, but he’s trying to be supportive. He’s trying the whole “putting others first” thing. Dave barely pauses as they reach the door. He only checks with Klaus once and his hand is already on the handle anyway.

“I’ll be fine,” Klaus tells him, but he has a feeling his answer wouldn’t have mattered right now.

Dave is lashing out, just a little. He’s angry and hurting and he wants to punish somebody. There’s something more than just mourning here and Klaus keeps telling himself it’s not personal. But fuck if he doesn’t want a drink just as much. And he doesn’t think Dave would stop him, either, isn’t sure Dave would coax him back from the guilt afterward like he usually does. He still glances at Klaus out the corner of his eye when the bartender comes over, though, still watches Klaus shake his head. The bartender grunts when Klaus asks if he can smoke then walks off to his books, turns his back on them and goes back to working. It’s good enough for Klaus.

They’re quiet again for a long time, but the words are biting at Klaus’s tongue.

“Are you mad at me?” he finally asks, fingers shaking around his cigarette. He can’t hold it in any longer. Dave turns to look at him.

“For...smoking?” he asks. He’s genuinely confused despite how upset he is and Klaus nearly chokes because damn it he fucking loves this man, can’t bare the thought of what’ll happen if he loses him. But he has to know.

“For bringing you here,” Klaus clarifies, looking away then down.

“Klaus I asked you to bring me here,” Dave says, brow still furrowed a little bit. Klaus huffs out a breath of smoke from his nose and shakes his head.

“For bringing you  _ here _ ,” he insists and, “You know what I mean.” Dave doesn’t say anything for a while and Klaus peeks up at him. Dave’s got his eyes on the bar, he’s picking at a flaking bit of paint along its edge.

“ _ Here _ , where my family is all dead and I don’t recognize anything and I’ve lost 50 years in the entire history of the world,” he checks. His voice is flat and hard. Klaus swallows and nods and looks longingly at the liquor lined up behind the bar.

“I always kinda knew I would lose my family for you,” Dave says after a bit. Klaus blinks back tears, it doesn’t make him feel better like he thinks it was intended to.

“I mean I never really learned to love my family the way I was supposed to and that still sounds like a shit deal,” Klaus says, trying to make a joke like he always does. Dave’s eyes are focused forward and he takes a long swallow of his drink.

“I don’t think my family ever loved me the way they were supposed to, either,” he says quietly. Klaus pauses in raising the cigarette to his lips. He opens his mouth to speak, something reassuring he hopes, something empathetic. Dave beats him to the punch, though, finally turning to look at Klaus head-on.

“I used to ride horses as a kid,” Dave says. It could be a change of subject, but Dave’s got that look in his eye that means he’s determined. He’ll see this through to the end, whatever it is, so Klaus lets him talk.

“My sisters all took it up one year, and I didn’t want to be left out. So Mom and Dad let me take riding lessons with them, indulging me, I guess, because I was barely five. All my sisters eventually dropped it, but I stuck with it. I loved it. Mom and Dad even relented and bought me a horse one year -- my birthday, all eight nights of Hanukkah, and every day I’d ask for money for ice cream all rolled into one. I thought I might be able to make a living out of it, the way a ten-year-old thinks he can make a living out of anything.

“There was another boy who worked at the stables where we kept my horse. He was a little older than me, and sometimes he’d let me take a drag or two off his cigarette when I managed to get away from my coach for a bit. When I was almost fourteen, he snuck me a pack of my own and we’d meet up behind the stable and--” Dave finishes his drink and clears his throat, “and smoke together.” He stops, turning away suddenly and tucking his mouth into his own shoulder like he does when he can’t find the right words. Klaus brushes his fingers across Dave’s knee under the bar. Finally, Dave turns back.

“One day, Mom’s brother came up to visit from Louisiana. It was a surprise and she brought him with her to pick me up so we could have a proper family dinner. They were a little bit early.

“A week later Mom and Dad sold my horse. I didn’t even know. Dad said I was fourteen so “it was time to stop wasting money on frivolous hobbies and start saving for my education.” Mom just said I was getting too tall, that my horse wouldn’t be able to handle the weight because “my little man, you’re bulking up just right.” That was the end of the discussion.

“The next summer, instead of bringing the family up to visit, my uncle invited my sisters down to Louisiana to see our cousins. He didn’t invite me. Never saw my mom’s side of the family again.”

“What about your dad’s?” Klaus can’t help asking. Dave runs one hand through his hair and, with a sudden confidence, places his free hand on Klaus’s thigh.

“Dad’s family never visited much anyway. Didn’t like Mom. She converted for him, and that wasn’t good enough for them. When I was fifteen, though, Izzy asked if she could stay with them so she could look at colleges in their area. Dad didn’t even have to look at me when he told her he didn’t talk to his family, because “they’ve always known something would go wrong with you kids. I hate to give them a chance to say I told you so.””

“Dave,” Klaus whispers. Dave squeezes his thigh a little, attempting a smile. “When you said you thought joining up would make you a man for them…” he trails off.

“Must’ve worked a little,” Dave says, turning to catch the bartender’s attention. “They at least got me a stone.”

“I was hoping you didn’t see that,” Klaus admits quietly. The bartender lumbers over and pours another vodka for Dave. He looks at Klaus again, but Klaus shakes his head. Dave’s smile is a little more genuine this time. Klaus slowly feels his heart unclench. The storm has passed.

“You asked me once if I would just run away with you,” Dave says when the bartender is back in his corner, ticking off boxes again and not paying them any mind. “I told you yes.”

“You’d just had your dick inside me, I thought it was the moment and all,” Klaus says.

“I meant it, Klaus, I always meant it. When you asked if I would come back here when our tour was over and I said no, I meant it. When I said we should go out West, I meant it. I  _ always _ meant it,” Dave says. He lifts his hand from Klaus’s leg to his cheek. The bartender doesn’t even shift and Dave strokes a thumb under Klaus’s eye. “I always kinda knew I would lose my family for you,” he repeats, “but I was never sorry about it.” He drops his hand and runs a finger around the rim of his glass, watches its track.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” he says. Klaus hisses as the cigarette he was holding singes his fingers. He’d forgotten all about it. He stamps it quickly on the bar.

Dave catches his hand and passes his thumb over the place it burned. Klaus shudders a little, his eyeliner is starting to bleed and it stings. Dave brushes his fingers under Klaus’s eye again, pushing aside the muddy tears, smudging the faintly gray tracks. “I am sorry I brought  _ you _ in  _ here _ .”

“Hey,” Klaus chokes wetly, “I said I’d be okay. And look at me,” he spreads his palms wide, tears falling now as a combination of emotion and eyeliner pains, “the picture of well-adjusted and in control.”

Dave laughs despite himself, shaking his head a little. He knocks back the rest of his drink and Klaus throws some money on the bar. He’s not sure how much it was supposed to cost, but the bartender doesn’t even look up as Dave pulls Klaus to his feet.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel, ghost boy. It’s been a long day,” Dave says fondly. His eyes are warm again. Klaus tucks himself into Dave’s side and even though he tenses when they walk outside, Dave doesn’t push Klaus away.

“Long for you, maybe,” Klaus says, looping both arms around Dave’s waist. Dave’s hand hovers for a moment, hesitant, then slowly creeps around his waist.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he says. Klaus shakes his head.

“I always will, if you want me,” he tells Dave. Dave smiles a little.

“You’ve been uncommonly patient with me,” he says.

“How do you mean?” Klaus asks innocently, as if he’s just always been this patient. Dave rolls his eyes. He doesn’t respond, but Klaus knows. That pit in his stomach fills in a bit as Dave pulls him just a little closer.

They fly home the next day and things fall into something resembling a routine. Dave’s still not 100%, but his mobility hasn’t been impaired and the bullet, thankfully, missed his lungs. He works out in the mornings, the same drills from training camp still pounded into his mind. Sometimes Klaus joins him, but usually he lays about in bed enjoying the view. They eat breakfast then go to the library and Dave gets back to studying. By early afternoon he’s exhausted again and Klaus trains while he naps. Five is convinced there’s more to Klaus’s powers than just summoning the dead, but there’s only so much Klaus can take in a day and even if Five is marginally gentler since they stopped the apocalypse, he starts to sound a little too much like Reginald after long enough. Still, even after their training sessions end in shouting matches, Diego or Allison or Vanya is right there to distract him until Dave wakes up. They also completely emptied the bar in the parlor when he was in Tennessee, which helps.

In the evenings, Klaus catches Dave up on the pop culture he missed, both during the war and after. He means to do things as chronologically as possible, but he lets himself skip ahead to Star Wars and, predictably, Dave is absolutely thrilled by it. They give up going by a timeline for a week and just watch all of them in a row. Klaus promises they’ll go to the theater for the last one.

It’s simple and it’s wonderful. Dave makes space for himself in 2019, eases his way into the crevices that should’ve been filled by the grumpy 79-year-old he would’ve become. He adapts, just like he always has, unprepared but no less determined. But it’s in Klaus’s nature to question everything, to hold his breath when things get good and brace for the other shoe to drop.  _ I meant it _ Dave promised, but the doubts won’t rest. Avoiding difficult conversations and running from his problems are also in Klaus’s nature, though, so he forces himself to ignore it all.

Of course Ben is right, though, it’ll come out sooner or later.

Dave naps for at least two hours each afternoon. He doesn’t always sleep the whole time, especially now that he’s getting stronger, but he closes himself in Klaus’s room and reads a little or just rests and daydreams. The only thing is, Klaus and Five almost never manage to get along for a full two hours. Usually Klaus storms out and is immediately swept up by one of the others, summoned when the shouting got too loud. Allison takes him shopping and doesn’t bat an eye when Klaus spends the whole time muttering to Ben; Diego forces him into gym clothes and tapes a picture of Reggie to a punching bag; Vanya, shy but trying still, asks if he’d listen to her perform a piece or takes him on a walk. (As much as Klaus loves spending Allison’s money and seeing that proud glint in Diego’s eye when he hits that stupid picture extra hard, it’s Vanya’s tiny little hand holding his that he loves best.) It’s rare that at least one of them won’t be around, but it happens sometimes.

When Five slams the door to the office today, Klaus automatically looks around for one of his siblings. Ben is standing off to the side, his edges still shimmering faintly blue from Klaus pulling him into tangibility over and over for the past hour, but none of the others pop up. Klaus massages his temples and remembers. Diego had a job interview, Allison went to visit Claire, and Vanya had some make-up lessons.

“We could go get some donuts,” Ben offers, “or waffles?”

“Look, no offense, Benji, but I’ve kind of had enough of your face for today,” Klaus mutters. He feels bad immediately, but he doesn’t take it back.

“You want me to go?” Ben asks. Klaus scratches at his arm, really considering.

“Yeah,” he decides, and fuck it if he gets a drink today. He’s been good for a while now, at least a couple months since he last fell off the wagon. He deserves it. Ben shoots him one last worried look, because he knows of course he knows, before leaving Klaus in the parlor. Klaus doesn’t ask where he goes when he leaves Klaus alone, but the buzzing presence of him fades a bit when he’s not close and Klaus is grateful for it.

He figures he can sneak into his room and grab his wallet and shoes, run down to the bar a half a block over, and be back before Dave’s up. It wouldn’t be the fastest drink he’s downed and no one would even notice he’d been gone. He darts out of the parlor before Pogo can find him and slips up to his room as quietly as possible. Dave’s not asleep though. Klaus presses his ear to the door as if it’ll help him understand what he’s saying. It’s definitely Hebrew, but it’s not a prayer Klaus has heard before. He knows some of them, can even recite a few with Dave, but this one is new.

He waits until Dave is finished to go in, all thoughts of a drink forgotten. Dave looks up and smiles, but his eyes are shimmering a bit. Klaus hesitates in the doorway. He always tries to give Dave at least two full hours alone, and there’s still at least a half hour left on his mental clock. Dave reaches out a hand though and Klaus doesn’t hesitate to take it.

“What prayer was that?” he asks as Dave pulls him down next to him on the bed.

“It’s for mourning,” Dave says. “We say it every day during the mourning period.”

“Have you been?” Klaus asks. Dave nods, looking down to play with Klaus’s fingers. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t.” Dave glances up long enough to smile softly at him again.

“So a whole year, right?” Klaus says, “You’ll keep doing it?” Dave’s quiet for a bit.

“We’ll see,” he says finally. Klaus takes back one of his hands to push Dave’s hair off his forehead. He hasn’t had a haircut since he landed in 2019 and it’s shaggy now, the high and tight completely grown out.

“Never really loved you like they were supposed to, right?” he asks. Dave turns away, pressing his mouth to his shoulder. A rock punches a hole right through the bottom of Klaus’s stomach as he realizes what he said.

“After,” Dave starts before Klaus can say something else mildly damaging, “after my horse.” Dave sniffs a bit and turns back, though his shoulder stays tensed up.

“After they found out, I don’t think I really loved them like I was supposed to, either,” he says slowly. He looks up, eyes glimmering. Klaus pets his hair back again and cups his cheek. Dave closes his eyes and his shoulders drop. He breathes out, long and deep like he’s been holding it for too many years. Like he’s finally admitted something he didn’t know he knew until that very moment.

“I’m worried you still resent me,” Klaus blurts out. One for one, he figures, his admission as penance for Dave’s. Klaus takes his hands back and Dave opens his eyes, questioning. “No, because I know, okay? I know I didn’t think about how long it was until you were already here. Going backward is one thing, right? I sort of know what’s going on, whatever I remembered of history lessons. Going forward is the hard one. Everything is suddenly different. And I didn’t think about that. I was just selfish again, just thinking about myself and how  _ I  _ would feel. How  _ my _ life would change. Didn’t think how yours would.”

“Well, when you said we should run away, I didn’t think it would be to a whole different century,” Dave admits.

“I wanted to work up to the future thing. I was hoping we’d get out of the active war zone, then I’d tell you.”

“But you’d still ask me to come with you,” Dave says. Klaus nods.

“Still selfish,” he confirms.

“It’s hard,” Dave says, “to guess what I might’ve said back then, if you’d asked me. I can’t imagine my life any differently right now. But even if I’d said no, it would’ve been the wrong choice.”

“Don’t say something just because you think it’s what I want to hear,” Klaus begs.

“I’m not,” Dave insists, “If I'd said no, it would’ve been for all the wrong reasons. I would’ve stayed to try to make up with my parents, maybe try to be a part of my sister’s lives. But they didn’t want me, did they? I told you, Klaus, I always meant it. I was ready to pick up and move out West with you, leave all that behind and forget about them. How do you see this as any different?”

“It would’ve been in the same century,” Klaus says, but he relaxes a little.

“Klaus, I don’t know if you noticed, but this century is better.” Klaus smiles a little. He leans forward, butting his head into Dave’s shoulder.

“It’s still not the same,” he insists.

“No, it’s not exactly the same,” Dave agrees. “But we skipped the pandemic that might’ve killed us, monogamous or not. We got out of being scared for our fucking lives just because we were holding hands in public. I mean, Christ, Klaus, I can marry you. I’m not upset for missing all that.” Klaus blinks, processing the words. Dave lets him, slowly running a hand up and down Klaus’s back.

“It’s mean to get my hopes up,” he finally says. “You don’t  _ actually _ want to marry me.” Dave laughs, a little exasperated, a lot fond. He tilts Klaus’s head up to look him in the eye.

“One day,” he says, smiling, “you’ll believe me when I tell you you’re the most important thing in the world to me.” Klaus looks away as much as he can with Dave still holding his chin.

“Now, Hargreeves,” Dave continues, breaking out his last name like they always did in the tent to lift the heavy moments, “we can keep talking about this, or you could go grab us something to eat because I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Klaus smiles, relaxing the rest of the way. He butts his head forward again and catches Dave on the cheekbone as he turns away, seeing it coming.

“Dunno what you’re thinking, expecting food to just magically appear, Katz,” Klaus says. He pulls away and stands. He is starving, as it happens, he always is after training sessions. “I’m not your maid.” He turns and flounces out the door. He’s halfway down the hallway, sort of skipping because he’s never felt light like this before, when Dave calls out again.

“Hey, Hargreeves,” he says, but it’s serious this time. Klaus turns back. Dave’s leaning against the door frame, watching him. He’s smiling. “I love you.”

It’s not often they say the words; love like this is so unfamiliar to both of them. It nearly knocks Klaus off his feet every time. He thinks it always might.

“I love you, too,” Klaus replies. He bounces a bit on his feet, giddy. “Now fall in line, Soldier. Dinner won't last forever.” Dave grins wider and pushes off the door frame.

It takes barely four strides for Dave to catch Klaus up in his arms. Klaus laughs as Dave throws him over his shoulder and starts walking toward the kitchen. It’s simple and it’s wonderful. And it’s what Dave wants.

**Author's Note:**

> HI WE'RE PRETENDING THERE WON'T BE A PANDEMIC IN 2020 FOR THEM. They lived happily ever after, shut up.
> 
> Edit 9/9: Mistakenly said a prayer was in Yiddish not Hebrew because past generations of the Jewish side of my family spoke Yiddish so that’s what I automatically put in. Learning more about Judaism just trying to get this right and respectful than I ever did during inter-denominational worships I’ve participated in, in the past.


End file.
